


August 12

by Haaska



Category: The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: AU where Ian and Anton are best pals, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, friends to almost-enemies, game prequel, prequel to current events to sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 07:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haaska/pseuds/Haaska
Summary: Ian is very determined to throw Anton a birthday party, but none of them knows his birthday date.Fortunately, the mancer doesn't see it as a problem.





	1. Chapter 1

“When's your birthday?”

Anton was taken by surprise. He choked on beer and spilled some out.

“What?”

“Your birthday. Everyone have birthday. So…” Ian raised one eyebrow and turned to the side to take a better look at Anton, who was currently trying to wipe off the beer from his sleeveless jacket. Ian pulled one leg to his chest and rested one elbow on his knee. “When's yours?”

“Why, you want to throw me a party?” Anton asked, his voice slightly annoyed. He looked away, at the panorama of slums under the platform they were sitting on. “I do not know. Nor do I care.”

“How can you not know?”

“Some of us were raised without parents, Ian.”

“I know, but there are records somewhere. Hospitals or orphanages or… or… I don’t know, anything. There has to be a trace.”

“Believe me, there is not.”

“I will find it.”

“There is nothing to find, Ian.”

“Which district were you raised at?”

“I told you, there's nothing… “ - Anton stopped when he saw Ian's determined expression and sighed  heavily. “You're so fucking stubborn, Ian, you know that?”

“Yeah, you tell me that at least twice a day.”

Anton puffed, but there was amusement in his voice. 

“District 97C. I can't wait to see you fail.”

“Give me a few days and I'll find it. And when the day comes, I will throw you the biggest, meanest party you've ever seen. All slums invited, decorations everywhere, hundreds of presents.” Ian made a wide gesture with his gloved hand, like he wanted to picture Anton the scene. “Men and women waiting in line to wish you a happy birthday. All of them fainting at the sight of you wearing a wonderful tuxedo. One chosen by me, because your taste in clothes is shit.” Ian stopped to take a gulp of his beer. He looked at Anton's half-terrified, half-annoyed expression and punched his arm lightly. “It’s gonna be a blast. You’ll see.”

Anton rolled his eyes.

“Do not think for a second that our friendship makes me less willing to throw you off this platform.” 

Ian winked and flashed his teeth in a sly smile. 

“If I ever fall down, I will bring your ass with me.”

“That was almost poetic.”  
“ _I_ am almost poetic.”

Anton shook his head and smiled. 

“You’ve clearly missed your calling.”  
  
  
  
  


* * *

 

 

_ A few days later _

  
  
  
  


Anton’s tablet beeped twice. New message. He fished it out of his bag and turned it on. 

> Found it. Turns out ur birthdays tomorrow. Secret party in ur office. Pretend u know nothing. So excited!!! Love, I.

Anton grunted and turned the tablet off.

He knew Ian had no resources nor time to organize a big party, but shadows know what other idea might've come to his mind. He could've fill his office with balloons. Or buy him a cake. Or actually invite some people. He had  _ just _ got enough money to rent his own office space and Ian would shred his reputation to pieces in one day. Fucking perfect.

He decided to avoid his office today.

Being friends with this one was so demanding sometimes.

 

* * *

 

_ One day later _

 

Anton was lying in his bed, staring at the dirty ceiling, thinking about all the things Ian could possibly do in one day to make his life miserable. 

Did he even find his birth certificate? Or any trace of his parents? If so, where?

Not important. He sighed and sat up. Putting away the inevitable was not going to help. It was best to go to the office and have this over with. He took his jacket and left. 

 

* * *

 

 

He entered the password on the panel to his door and entered the office.

It was empty. 

Nothing has changed. Anton looked around and took a careful step forward, looking for traps of any kind. He even checked the ceiling. Nothing.

“If you plan on jumping at me while yelling “happy birthday”, be warned that I have a knife and I am ready to use it.” 

No response. No one was there.

Anton closed the door and walked to his desk, the only piece of furniture in this office at the moment. There was something small on it, something he missed while looking for traps or guests or other unwanted things.  

It looked like a small metal remote with two buttons. A-ha. He picked it up and found a small piece of paper sticked to it. Anton unfolded it and read a neat handwriting. 

 

_ I couldn't find your birthday date. I hope you’re happy. So I declare this day, August 12, your birthday. Enjoy your gift. _

 

Anton felt a sting of disappointed, but why, he couldn’t tell. The tablet beeped. Anton took it out and opened the message.

> U in ur office yet?  
> Yes, I am in my office. If that’s what you are asking.  
> Cool. How u like it?  
> I don’t know. What should I like?  


There was a moment of silence. A minute passed and the tablet finally displayed a new message.

> U didn’t press it did u  
> I don’t trust like that.  
> It’s nothing party related promise

Anton sighed.

> I decided not to check.  
> Trust me, Antek. U won’t regret it.

Ah, screw it. It was either that or Ian whining about it all day. Anton wasn’t sure which was worse. 

He pressed the button.

The front door to his office opened.

He pressed it again. The door closed and the panel beeped, meaning the remote has activated the maglocks. A few days in his new office and he already felt like it’s a public marketplace. No more. No one will bother him now, he could close the door in front of someone's nose and he won’t even have to stand up. 

> Holy shit.  
> You like it?  
> I actually do.

Anton felt weird. Impressed. Touched. He has written another message. 

> I appreciate it, Ian.  
> Don’t start crying on my shoulder. I got it installed when u were avoiding the office. Set up a password that no one will know. I’m bringing booze. Party, yay!  
> Ugh.

  
  
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years have passed. Things have changed.   
> Being the leader of all the Technomancers doesn't go well with being a friend to the most dangerous man in Ophir, as is turns out.  
> And to think they used to be close.

 

Ian has stormed into the clinic and felt a hand grabbing his arm. 

“Sir? You can’t go there.”

Ian felt his blood boiling. He looked down at the medic, who has probably just now noticed metal implants on older man’s temple. The medic backed off, somehow made himself smaller and stepped to the side to let him pass. 

“I apologize, Great Master. I wasn’t aware that you will come."

Ian ignored his rambling. He walked to one of the beds and looked at the young mancer lying on it. His face was unnaturally pale and he was shaking from electric pulses.

The next bed was occupied, too. By Connor. He's been sitting on top of it. He looked exhausted and he was shaking, just like the cadet. It was clear he helped him control the overload. 

Overload that wasn’t supposed to happen to someone this age if the kid wasn’t high.

Ian stormed out of the medbay and started walking towards the chapel. 

 

* * *

 

He has found his old tablet at the bottom of the drawer. He took off his technomancer gloves and threw them away.

> Another mancer high on your poison will be sent straight to your fucking office to overload in your face.

He started typing another message immediately, mostly to hide much older messages visible at the top of the screen.

> I mean it.

Only two minutes passed and he heard a familiar beep.

> Are you aware that I am not standing at the corner of the street in person, selling drugs to young mancer junkie s?

Ian felt a strong urge to punch something.

> You might as well be if it happens again. I don't fucking care how u do it. Make an example of someone, I don’t fucking care just deal with it.” 

Silence. Just when Ian thought he won’t see a reply, the device beeped.

> They won’t sell it directly. It doesn’t mean your precious kids won’t be able to buy it from second sources. Deal with it yourself if that happens. It is none of my concern.

Ian run his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Another message came. 

> And don't mistake my decision with kindness, Ian. I didn't do it for “old times sake”. You, mancers, are no use to me if you're weak. Keep ASC's attention on you and we have a deal.

> Fine.

He was trying very hard not to slam the tablet to the wall. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sending hugs to our Tech group!


End file.
